


Suffocation

by akire_yta



Series: prompt ficlets [363]
Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Gen, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-26
Updated: 2016-11-26
Packaged: 2018-09-02 09:50:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8662843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akire_yta/pseuds/akire_yta
Summary: anon requested: Something about Alan and 'suffocation'?





	

Alan sometimes felt like he couldn’t breath with the weight of expectation on him.  There was the family name, and the family legacy, the duty and the honour that had been laid on top of him before he was even aware of what those words meant.

Alan thought he was dealing with it well, until he found himself sobbing, half-in and half-out his flight suit, great gulping sobs that squeezed his chest and made his eyes and nose water.

Of course, that was when John walked in; they shared a suit-up space, their needs complimentary.  Alan tried to get himself under control, pretend like his eyes weren’t burning and his throat wasn’t shredded, but John knew.

John gave Alan space to finish changing back into civvies, his back turned as he peeled off his own flight suit, swapping them out for jeans and a shirt.

Alan kept his eyes on the wall, dawdling, hoping that John would just _leave_.

Instead, a hand holding a cold damp cloth appeared at the edge of his sight.  “Here.  This will help.”

As Alan angrily scrubbed at his face, John took a seat, his back pressed against the wall.  “I won’t ask if you’re okay, so don’t feel like you have to lie to me.”  John seemed not to be looking at Alan, but Alan kept his face impassive as he could.  John seemed unperturbed.  “I hated it when Scott kept asking, I remember that.”

Alan froze, cloth plastered on his face.  He lowered it slowly.  “Remember?”

John shrugged, easy and relaxed.  “I used to throw things.”  He shrugged again.  “Never seemed to help, but throwing was what I wanted to do.  Then I started taking long walks, just to not be John Tracy for a while.”

Alan slithered down to sit, perched on the edge of the bench next to John.  “You mean…?”

John telegraphed his movement, slowly tucking Alan in under one arm.  “We’ve all been there, Allie.  And it sucks, I know.  But I swear, it gets easier to balance.  And if it doesn’t, tell us, please.  We’ve been there, we can help.”

Alan nodded, not trusting his voice.  Slowly, he felt the puffiness in his cheeks fade, his breathing steady.  “John?” he asked slowly.  “I was thinking of taking a walk along the beach.  Want to join me?”

John gave him a tiny squeeze.  “Sounds great, Alan.  Come on.”  Standing, he held out his hand.  Alan took it, and let his brother help him up.


End file.
